Where Everybody Knows Your Name
by Rhino7
Summary: Tifa is a good listener...and Leon needs to vent.


**Where Everybody Knows Your Name**

**By Rhino7**

**Disclaimer: Le Gasp! I'm not dead! And I'm actually posting something?! Sheesh, school has been slowly consuming my soul, and I've been writing this little thingy on and off in my spare time, so I apologize if it's piecemeal. Just a little pointless one-shot of shameless Leon and Tifa friendship development, still my obsession for now. I don't own Kingdom Hearts, its characters or storyline. This one-shot is mine, as is Duke. I don't own and have no affiliation with the Cheers TV show.**

**..:--X--:..**

There was something inexorably beautiful about a couch, a gallon of banana pudding, and a television marathon of Cheers on a Thursday night. This was perfectly, exactly where Tifa found herself after finishing the last of her reconstruction reports. Well, there were plenty of reports that she hadn't even started yet, but she had completed all of the reports due by the end of the week, so…screw it, she needed a break.

So it was with a smile and an unburdening sigh that she sank into the old, threadbare couch in the break room of the Allied Headquarter East Wing. The way-too-large bowl of banana pudding and remote were waiting for her on the coffee table. Stretching her legs the length of the couch, she took up the snack and remote and flipped it to the obscure little channel that hosted the show. It was a hijacked channel that Cid had come across while doing satellite scans of the worlds that had remained neutral during the Heartless Wars. Now it was all any of them ever watched, since it was the only one of thousands of programs that didn't break for headlining stories about the Heartless or how people thought the Alliance was screwing up this time.

The opening credits were rolling, accompanied by that catchy little jingle. Tifa smiled as thoughts of work and war were replaced by the teasing banter of the characters at the bar. The banana pudding had that mildly cheap taste of being mass produced and sold at a store, but it was pudding and it was sweet, and boy did she need some of that.

The East Wing of the Allied Headquarter Building in Radiant Garden was mostly empty. All regular employees had clocked out, and the Council of Representatives had been gone all day to a press conference in Land of Dragons. Just a few workaholics were still plotting away in their offices. Since the end of the war and the beginning of reconstruction, there had been no shortage of work but unfortunately a shortage in workers. Sure, in the hype of the defeat of the Heartless and Organization XIII, everybody had been more than willing to rebuild homes, clean away debris, and transport supplies. But, exponentially, as time passed, people filtered back to their normal, civilian lives, leaving the bulk of the work to the Alliance's officials.

The Alliance was a war-government, an authority organized to rule solely on the basis of ending the war. Now the war was over, and the Alliance, comprised of soldiers and battle hardened leaders, were struggling to make the transition into a peace-time, permanent leadership authority. To construct instead of destroy.

Though the war had been over for two years, Heartless and Nobodies still roamed the outskirts and occasionally breached the Security System, causing minor skirmishes in Radiant Garden. Only one out of every ten got through, and they were small fry, easily dispatched with, but the public was not forgiving toward what they claimed was a "faulty system under an innate government."

The press conference that day was purposely set up to ease these fears that the Heartless were regaining power. To quell the unrest about the weak economic state and to assure the public that they were making progress in Radiant Garden, which had quickly become the economic and industrial epicenter of all matters Allied.

Tifa had not watched the press conference on television, though it was being aired on every Radiant Garden screen and radio. It was a combination of being tired of hearing about the same solutions to the same complaints, and of knowing she would get a less-than-official, but more accurate, debriefing by Leon when he got back.

Though it would have been amusing to see Leon standing up there with those fancy suits on the representative Council. People paid more attention when Leon spoke up, because he spoke bluntly and didn't sugarcoat or dumb-down the truth for people.

Cheers flipped to a commercial break and Tifa ate a spoonful of pudding, humming to herself. The sound of light foot falls echoed across the floor and she tilted her head to see Leon's dog Duke saunter into the break room. A reddish-golden lab, she padded in and licked her nose at Tifa, tongue then hanging out of her mouth in greeting.

"Hey, girl, what are you doing here?" Tifa chirped at the dog.

She was just a stray who'd wandered around Merlin's house, really. Leon had taken her in and she had been in love with her new master since. The East Wing became Duke's territory, though she mostly lounged around in Leon's or Tifa's office mostly. Tifa was slightly surprised that Leon had left Duke here all day when he had been gone, but that meant he was probably coming straight back to the office after the press conference.

Duke sidled over to her and Tifa scratched under the dog's jaw. The dog settled down there, curling up on the floor where Tifa could still pet her and scratch her ears. Ah, dogs.

Her show came back on and Tifa relaxed on the couch again, temporarily muting the little voice that warned her against the thousands of Calories she was munching on.

Episode six of her marathon had just ended when Duke suddenly sprang to all fours and darted toward the door. Tifa kept her eyes on the screen, not reacting to the sudden behavior beyond picking up the remote and swallowing her most recent bite of pudding.

Sure enough, the door opened five seconds later and in walked a tired, drawn, moody-looking Leon. Tifa clicked the volume on the television down a few notches, knowing how the "idiot convention" gave him headaches and allowing the quieter television to open the circuit for conversation, if he felt like it.

"Hey." She greeted, while Duke bounced around Leon's legs like there were springs on her paws, tail flapping wildly.

Leon just grunted in reply, leaning forward against a chair rather than sitting. Oh, not good, Tifa thought. She picked up on the tension in his frame that most people overlooked or that he usually bothered to hide.

"That bad, huh?" She prompted, finally turning her entire face to him, away from the safety of the screen.

He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Hellish."

The fact that he said a word at all meant that more words were coming, and from the stressed lines of his face, Tifa could have bet munny that most of them were four-lettered.

Duke hopped onto the chair Leon was leaning against, pushing her nose against his hands, demanding attention. Leon absently scratched her neck and then patted her shoulder. Looking like she wanted more but seeing a lost battle, the dog vacated the chair and instead leapt onto the couch and Tifa's legs.

"They're all morons." Leon ground out after a moment.

Duke lifted her head at his voice, but Tifa draped a leg over the dog's back, holding her in place and petting her with her foot.

"How so this time?" Tifa uttered those four magic words, unlocking the door and giving permission for all that crap to come mudsliding out.

"Security System complaints again." Leon conceded.

"Ah." Tifa bobbed her head.

"People think we aren't doing enough to ensure the safety of the town, that we're only trying to keep Headquarters safe and to Hell with all the civilians." Leon started.

"Did they say that?" Tifa was startled.

Leon shook his head, "No, but it was between the lines. The Council repeated the same assurance we've been telling them since reconstruction began: we are taking every precaution to protect every Allied world and its inhabitants. Crime and attacks have been on the decline for months. No one has died of violence since last April."

"What did the press say?" She prodded.

"They threw statistics at us." Leon growled. "Pointed out the bonus security being shelled out for Radiant Garden. They claimed the Council was using Allied reconstruction funds to construct weapons and government buildings instead of residential districts and rebuilding economic centers."

"Bullshit, like we have money to throw away on weapons." Tifa offered.

"That's what I said, in not so many words." Leon ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "I told them not to play stupid, we're all aware of the shitty state of the economy right now. War debts, unemployment, reconstruction, clearing away debris, maintaining military where Heartless and Nobodies still are, rebuilding roads and repairing properties…That's where all the money's going."

Tifa didn't reply, just let him continue.

"They all seem to have it in their heads that as soon as the war ended, everything should have been clear skies and happy days. It will be, down the road, but we have to rebuild the road to get to that point first." He hissed. "Then they went straight to security, voicing all the complaints we hear back here. Said Cid's Security System was faulty and a bandaid solution for the problem."

Leon was practically seething. Tifa knew just how familiar he was with the public's opinion on the security system. He was lucky to be alive because of it.

"But…oh, but instead of assuring them that the system was perpetually under observation and was 90 percent efficient, that shit-for-brains Nestor told the press that we would start work immediately for designing a new system!" He barked.

Tifa's eyes widened, "But we're not. Plans for a new system aren't even on the table."

"That idiot knows that as well as I do, but he's too scared of looking bad in the public eye. He's too cowardly to say no and take the heat for it. We're barely out of the woods, and they want more. Yet none of them are willing to get up and do it themselves anymore." Leon stood away from the chair, walking aimlessly around the break room.

"So you aren't heading the design team?" Tifa said flatly.

"Of course not. We're all stretched impossibly thin as it is, and I'm not going to waste my time or the Alliance's money on fixing something that works perfectly fine just because they don't have the balls not to cater to complainers."

Tifa sighed, "I'll be devil's advocate then." She muted the television. "What happens when there's another breach and no new system?"

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair again. "I don't know. Nestor's problem, not mine."

That was crap and they both knew it. Crabby and demanding as the inhabitants of Radiant Garden were, Leon cared too much to throw in the towel at them. Fortunately or unfortunately, not a lot of people picked up on that…and Leon didn't exactly give out free hugs and hand out balloons to show it.

Neither of them said anything for a while and Tifa rubbed Duke's back with her foot. Leon watched the dog while his thoughts were elsewhere. The break room fell quiet and the silence was a comfortable one. The angry bubble around Leon's person had lessened slightly, though he was very obviously still pissed. His shoulders seemed to look heavier every time Tifa saw him, which was every day, and this latest round of playing bad cop to the public bitch Nestor's good cop wasn't helping.

Tifa looked to the television. The end credits were rolling, but the announcement banner at the bottom of the screen was excited to announce another episode coming up next. She made no motion to un-mute it. The quiet was nice. Leon looked more spent than pissed at that point, unsure if he wanted to hit something or collapse. After a moment, he seemed to go for the latter and sank into the nearest patched-up wingback with a heavy sigh.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, propping his boots on the coffee table, looking older than his 27 years. Duke lifted her head and, having none of that, wriggled out from under Tifa's leg, hopped off the couch, and jumped into Leon's lap. Tifa laughed as Leon jerked, more out of the 70 pound dog landing on him than surprise that she had done so.

Duke licked his jaw and gave Tifa a canine grin, tongue lolling. She looked to Leon as if to say: feel better and pet me. Leon regarded the dog with a flat look and then sighed in defeat, scratching her under the jaw. Tifa chuckled and stretched her legs back out across the couch, pudding bowl in her lap.

After another few moments of easy silence, Leon leaned his head back and glanced at the television. He groaned and looked to Tifa with a judging expression.

"Do you still watch this?" He teased.

"Shut up." Tifa picked up the remote. "It's good TV."

"Yeah, yeah." He watched the opening credits for the upcoming episode blandly, his thoughts still clinging to the Security System-vs-Nestor problem.

Tifa watched him mildly for a moment. "You need a vacation."

Leon snorted, "That's the pot calling the kettle black."

He looked over at her, and she softened at the stressed lines on his face. Tilting her head, she held out her bowl of pudding as an offering. He grunted and Duke settled down on his lap. Tifa shrugged and kept the pudding to herself, lifting the remote and restoring the volume on the set. Maybe for a distraction or maybe too tired to argue anymore, Leon watched it with her.

They'd figure out the PR problems later, after Carla finished making fun of Cliff.


End file.
